All language subtitles for If.Looks.Could.Kill.1991.720p.WEBRip.x264.AAC2.0-FGT

- Untranslated subtitle -

Parents, guests, members of our distinguished faculty,

fellow students, we've come
down this long road together,

and now it's time for many of us to part company.

We leave knowing our future holds
no more or less than what we make of it.

- What did I miss?
- Some crap about our future.

...a new plateau in our lives.

We will all flourish. We will all prevail.
The potential is limitless.

This is the moment we step through
a new door with eager anticipation.

This is our moment. Yes, we are the future.

We are the world.

Good luck to you all,
and God bless America!

Let's have a warm hand
for our valedictorian Melissa Tyler!

And now Mrs. Grober will help me to hand out the awards
to this year's graduating class of Edsel High 1991.

Smile.

Look in the camera.

Sir, this has been the best four years of my life.

Don't overwhelm yourself.
The best is yet to come.

Oh, no!

I'm real sorry.
I don't know what to say, you know?

Don't know what to say?
I'll tell you what to say.

"I would like to have graduated high school, but I
couldn't fit it into my dating and partying schedule,"

or "I was too busy doing jack-shit
instead of going to my French class!"

Herb, take a pill.

Why didn't you tell us you were having trouble?
We could have gotten you a tutor.

I hope you like pumping gas.
That's what I see in your future.

I see Brad just out of dental school,
driving in his new oldsmobile...

- BMW, Dad.
- And you're going to be checking his oil!

Herb! Why don't I call Mrs. Grober about summer school?

- There is no summer school.
- There has to be summer school.

Well, there's summer school, but Mrs. Grober's
taking the French club to France,
and the only way to make up credit is if I went...

- Untranslated subtitle -

I'll be goddamned if you think I'm gonna
send you to France for flunking high school?

Mrs. Grober hates my guts.

I'm sorry. I really let you down.

There goes college this fall.

Flunking high school's not the end of the world.
I'm calling Mrs. Grober, no matter how she feels.

Michael, son, potential failure, I love you to death,
but I want to tell you something.

You have good intentions, but that's not enough.

Dad, is this the "no follow-through" speech?

Right. Now, you know what your main problem is?

- No. What?
- No follow-through.

Michael, you've got to make things happen.

You can't go through life irresponsibly,
and you can't depend on luck.

Mrs. Grober? Hello. This is Marge Corben.

- Untranslated subtitle -

Be realistic, Monsieur Lafevre. As Finance Minister
of perhaps the most progressive nation in Europe,

surely you must understand that your participation
is imperative to this operation.

Anything to the contrary could be interpreted by
the European community as a lack of good faith.

This is more than a matter of trust, Augustus.
France's gold must remain in France.

Well, I'm very sorry you feel that way.

He was followed!

It's Blade.

Look. Zigesfeld is hurt.

Steranko.

Mr. Blade, I suggest you leave
before you start an international incident.

You mean like the one you're planning?

For business calls, you need an appointment.

Maybe next time.

There will be no next time.

We're all saddened by Blade's death.

Yesterday's discovery of Blade's body
leaves us in a rather precarious position.

Not only have we forfeited our most experienced operative,

but we have gravely underestimated
the importance of his mission.

Our last contact with Blade was five months ago.

He was investigating a disturbing series of bizarre deaths

involving the Finance Ministers of
Common Market nations.

We can now add French Finance Minister
Jacques Lafevre to the body count.

His body was discovered with Blade's,
their murder disguised as a car accident.

If this pattern continues, Augustus Steranko,
the newly appointed leader of the
European economic community, will be next.

He must be protected.

- Lieutenant Colonel Larabee.
- Please continue.

Her majesty has contacted
the President of the United States,

and he's deploying one of their deep-cover
operatives to our situation.

This operative has been living under an alias
for the last five years,

establishing deep cover in the United States.

Nobody knows what he looks like here.

They don't know his age, race, or background.

We do know he's arriving on Air Transat
flight 35 departing Detroit tomorrow

under the code name "Michael Corben."

Lieutenant Colonel Larabee's code name is "Mother."

Kelly?

It doesn't sound like the operative's cover
is as deep as you think.

How do you mean that?

No one knows what he looks like?

- Sir, we know he's male.
- Shut up, Kelly.

American male, age unknown,

departing Detroit International terminal
on Air Transat flight 35 tomorrow.

A call will be placed to him one hour before flight time.

Excellent. I'll be there.

I advise extreme caution.

The man is a jackal.

By the way, Kelly, did you get his name?

Michael Corben.

Good morning, Monsieur Corben.
Traveling with us first-class today?

Yes.

White zone is for immediate
loading and unloading of passengers.

Corben! Michael Corben!

Kent, my man. How's it going?

Oh, pretty good.

I don't believe this one.

This was the only way.

I think we're very lucky.

Lucky? Lucky?

Yeah, I feel damn privileged to send my son
to Europe for only $300-plus a day.

Thanks, Dad.

Oh, Mom, while I'm gone,
think about switching Dad over to decaf.

- Michael.
- What?

Look who's here... Melissa Tyler.

Well, take her.

And lose my geek status?

Kent, you're sticking with me.

In the daytime we'll do the French bit,
but in the nighttime when the nerd patrol crashes,

it's you and me, pal,
on a Parisian babe safari.

What about Grober?

Don't worry about Grober. I can handle her.

Don't count on it.

I'll be on your ass every minute!

I'll sit next to you during the day
and check your room at night.

- Untranslated subtitle -

I even booked your seat on the plane
right next to mine.

I didn't see you in class all year.

That credit is not coming easy.

We're going to make up for lost time starting now.

Repetez. Je m'appelle Michael Corben.

Class, follow me.

Repetez!

Repetez.

Je m'appelle Michael Corben.

Phone call for Mr. Michael Corben
in the first-class lounge.

Can that call be transferred?

No, but the first-class lounge is around the corner.

When you come back,
I'll have your ticket ready for you.

Marie, I'm taking my break!

Good morning.

I'm Michael Corben.

There's a telephone call for me.

Sorry, we're closed for cleaning.
Our club room's down the hall.

It's important.

If you can stand the noise, take it in there.

Thank you.

Michael, it's Mother.

Hello, Mother.

Honey, I can barely hear you.

Repeat, please.

Listen, Michael, pick up an extra bottle
of Chanel when you go shopping.

Grandma will want one, too.

Chanel... shopping...

Grandma?

Right, and try to sleep on the plane.
You sound tense.

- I will.
- Bye, honey. I'll miss you, sweetheart.

- Here you go.
- Thank you.

- Ah, yes, we have your ticket right here.
- You do? Well, what about...

- Michael Corben. First-class.
- First-class?

- Have a nice flight.
- Thanks.

What's your seat number, Michael?
Maybe we can sit together.

I really don't think that's possible,
unless you're traveling first-class.

Right, like, I'm sure.

What? How...

Paging Michael Corben.

Please report to the yellow courtesy phone.

Excuse me.

Hey, check it out.

First-class.

How?

Ow! Did you really think
I would sit next to Grober?

There's been a mistake.

Where are you going with that cart?

This should be disposed of.

Exactly.

Paging Michael Corben.

Phone call for Mr. Michael Corben.

It's for you.

Yeah?

Corben?

Yeah?

It's Mother.

Who is this?

Listen. An operative
will be meeting you on the plane.

I know who this is.

If you guys are on a speakerphone,
tell your sister she has nice tits.

Corben, we shan't do anything of the kind.

Who's that? Sanderson?

Haywood.

Haywood? Nice accent, mate.

Thank you.

Get this, guys, I'm traveling to Paris, first-class.

We're with you in spirit.
Be careful. Good luck.

Mother.

We've got less than five minutes
to get on the plane.

Let's go. Let's go!

We've got a plane to catch.

Uh, hey. First-class.

Right this way.

Unreal.

Champagne?

Yeah!

Yeah.

Pardon. Is everyone on the plane?

How would I know?

Bonjour, Monsieur.

Thanks.

Prime rib or lobster?

Excuse me. What is this?

Food.

I am looking for him.

His name is Michael Corben.

He's on a class trip. I'm his teacher.

He should be in coach. I don't know why he's here.

Are you Michael Corben?

What?

Are you Michael Corben?

Oh. Yeah.

Are you supposed to be here?

Where's your ticket?

Yes.

Well, there's this woman,
she says she's your French teacher, Mrs. Grober.

Not my French teacher!

Listen, that woman's been on my tail
since she spotted me in Detroit.

You know what?

I think she thinks she thinks she knows me,
but I don't think I know her.

I think that sounds logical.
What do you think?

Think of something to get rid of her.

Tell her you can't think right now.

Listen, lady, I don't know what you're up to,
but stay away from Michael Corben,
or I'll splatter your brains all over this aircraft!

You understand?

If you're wondering, I have the authority to do it.

You've got to help me!

A man with a gun and Michael Corben...

Get ahold of yourself.

I'll be back!

What are you doing? Go back to work.

Great cover, Corben. Don't turn around.

Don't worry. Everything is under control.

You've got a safe ride to Paris.

Good luck.

- A nightcap, perhaps, sir?
- Why, thank you.

Sweet dreams.

The captain has turned on the "no smoking" sign
in preparation for our descent.

Thanks.

Listen, I travel first-class all over the world,
and that was the best Julius Caesar salad ever.

It was my pleasure.

Michael! Michael Corben!

I know what you've been up to!

You are in big trouble, mister!

Excuse me!

Out of the way! Move!

- You going to help me?
- I'll take care of her.

Don't move!

Move these bags, you idiot!

Excuse me!

We have landed, sir.

Sir?

Wake up.

Wake up!

Michael Corben!

Michael!

Michael Corben, you come back here!

Hurry. They know you're here.

Derek Richardson, British Intelligence.

Somebody gave me that first-class ticket.

Michael Corben, come back here!

I didn't even eat dinner!

All right, I had the lobster!
I did drink the champagne.

They're already on to us!

I fell asleep during the movie!

There must be...

Listen, what are you doing?

Get inside!

Go!

Go? Go where?

Zigesfeld!

It's me.

Listen, our informant duped us.

Not only is Michael Corben still alive,
but he's working with an American woman
they call "the French Teacher."

There!

Michael! Michael!

No!

I'll take care of her. Follow Corben.

Kill him.

There can be no more mistakes.

Michael!

Nasty business!

I wonder how it happened.

The ticket had my name on it.

I didn't want to sit there.

What else could you do?

Nothing.

You're lucky to be alive.

In Spain, with their security, they'd have killed you.

Listen, I'm an American citizen, and I know my rights.

Corben, don't go asking for special privileges.

I want to speak to the American Embassy.

- Relax. They know you're here.
- What'd they say?

They wished you good luck.

What the hell is that?

Our new bomb scanner,
almost 90% effective.

Come along.

This way.

Ha ha ha! Oh, I love this place.

Stand back, gentlemen.

Well, we'd better stand here for now.

Isn't it marvelous?

Ready to go again?

Maybe later.

Hello, lan. Sorry to interrupt.

Excuse me.

Ha ha! Very good!

Michael Corben, allow me to introduce
Miss Galante.

So, you're Corben.

We expected a much older man.

Interesting. Very interesting.

Your equipment.

How old are you, Corben?

I don't have to answer any of these questions.

Relax, Mr. Corben. We'll respect your cover.

We prepared for someone more conservative.

These won't do at all now.

The French Police forwarded your call
to their English-Speaking Bureau.

Oh, thank goodness!

We are fully apprised of the situation.

It will be best if you just forgot
whatever you thought you saw.

How can I? We're talking about Michael Corben!

Are you sure you're completely aware
of the full import of this situation?

Of course. I am the French Teacher!

I'll kill that kid.

- Keep her talking.
- Oh, that won't be a problem.

I want all references
to the operative called "the French Teacher."

Go back 20 years if necessary.

Corben will have to go it alone.

Then somebody must call his mother!

Mrs. Grober, do you know Mother?

I certainly do.

Shh! Despite what you are saying,
if I don't have Michael Corben this week,

she will be one unhappy lady.

Is that a threat?

French teachers do not threaten, Monsieur.

They say s'il vous plait.

My people have adjusted the armament provision
designated for your mission, Corben.

- My what?
- Surely you're familiar with the knapsack.

I'm sure you'll find these interesting.

You'll be the first agent to use the working prototype.

No way. X-ray specs?

Of course, x-rays are impervious to lead.

Of course.

May I?

You're such a boy, Derek.

Chewable plastic explosives. Sugarless, of course.

Quite ingenious.

Simply chew like an ordinary piece of gum.

Combine with the silver foil
to activate the explosive compound.

These are quite new.

Press these pads to activate.

They'll adhere to any surface.

NASA technology combined with British ingenuity.

I wouldn't gain any weight if I were you.

This is all very cool,
but you guys are making a big mistake.

Isn't this charade getting tiresome?

Just who do you think I am?

Michael Corben, deep-cover agent for the CIA.

Michael Corben, French-class reject.

I've seen it before.

They've got them so brainwashed in America,
you can't penetrate his cover.

Here, look. Check this out.

Here's my driver's license,
my school i.d., my fake i.d.

Track down Mrs. Grober, my French teacher.

- She'll tell you I'm...
- Your car.

Michael Corben, deep-cover operative for the CIA.

This is a photograph of Augustus Steranko,
Orenbourg's Chancellor of Finance.

Steranko is an ally and a friend.

I got to get a boat.

Steranko will be hosting a summit
at the Chateau Richlieu in Orenbourg.

Prime ministers from every Common-Market
nation will bring their countries' gold.

The Chateau will become the Fort Knox of Europe.

When you say, "your car,"
did you mean "your car,"

or did you mean "your car," as in my car?

The assassin has already murdered three Finance
Ministers and Blade, who was our own top agent.

We suspect Steranko will be his next target.

Under no circumstances should you indicate to him
that you're working for British Intelligence.

- Control panel open.
- Get out of town.

Damn!

Now...

in here, you'll find a wet suit,
scuba gear, camouflage, and a tuxedo,

all outfitted with standard
hands-up survival protection.

There's a map in your glove compartment.

You'll find 100,000 francs for expenses in your pack,
along with the key to your room at the Palace Hotel.

It's near the casino where
Steranko will be playing cards tonight.

Buy whatever you need... some new clothes,
perhaps... but save the receipts.

Uh... you won't need this. I'll keep it for you.

Ok, so basically, you want me to blaze down to
Orenbourg, hang out for a while, right?

And keep an eye on this Steranko guy.

More or less.

Uh-huh. In this car?

- Good luck.
- Yes, godspeed.

So...

I can drive this baby out of here right now,
right, without you guys?

Um... yes.

Back off!

Pull over!

One second.

Let me get the window down.

Windows.

Control panel open.

All systems ready.

What's your name?

Oh, my god!

You're in danger. Behind you!

Hey!

What's your problem?

Front, rear rockets armed.

Shield.

Parachute deployed.

You smashed into my car!

Jesus!

Listen to me. Back off!

Front rockets...

rocket armed.

Windows.

Put the windows down.

Systems overload. Fire.

- Look at that babe!
- Kent, stop looking at babes!

Oh, my god!

It's Michael Corben!

It's Michael!

Michael!

Where?

Rear rockets. Fasten seat belt.

Disarmed. Armed.

Fire.

Disable vehicle.

Shit!

Windows down.

You...

Ah, man! Those British guys
are really going to be honked off.

You are so gross.

Oh, god!

Back in the bus five minutes exactly.

Bonjour.

Je suis le nouveau chauffeur, Jean-Claude.

Ah, um... Class...
Bonjour, Jean-Claude.

Augustus!

Augustus!

The German Finance Minister's here!

He was here two days ago with the other Finance Ministers.

They seemed perfectly satisfied.

No. He suspects.

Show him to the library.

A few well-chosen words, and he'll be gone.

Steranko! Get out of my way!

You let him in here.

He let himself in here.

Talking is useless.

Oh, Krupp.

What a pleasant surprise.

This is insanity. What have you done with our gold?

Yes, Augustus, show him.

Your gold is lowered into the smelting cauldron.

All impurities are vaporized.

Germany will never stand for this.

The bullion is rehardened with liquid nitrogen

before it's sent to the presses

to mint the new coin of my empire.

You're mad.

What?

I'll tell the world.

I don't think so.

No!

Take him.

No!

You can't do this! Stop it!
Stop it! Let me go!

Don't you ever countermand me again.
Do you hear?

Yes, of course, Augustus.
I just thought that I...

Please! Don't think.

Hey, wait up!

Hey!

How's it going?

Bonsoir.

Leave the windows down.

Ou allez-vous, Monsieur?

Listen, it is very important. I must entrez.

I must find zat girl.

No, not French.

Parlez-vous English?

Monsieur, what I said is that you look like
a piece of adolescent American dog shit.

- Dog shit.
- Change your clothes.

Hi. You probably don't remember me.

Red Lotus, 150 miles per hour.

You ran me off the road twice.

Go away.

Ah, 21! I kill at this game.

The game is Baccarat, Monsieur.
Observers are not permitted.

I suspect this game will end shortly.

You wish.

- What's that mean?
- I'm out of the game.

Ah, chips for, uh...

Mariska.

Mariska.

Chip us.

I'm sorry.
Baccarat is not played in doubles.

I don't mind.

You can bring all Europe to the table
as far as I'm concerned.

Knock the shit out of him.

Hey.

Banco...

50,000.

Banco.

Banco... what's that?

You just bet half your money.

It's no problem.

So, listen, when I saw you in the car,
I just wanted to find out your name.

Mariska.

It's almost as beautiful as...

as you are.

Is Monsieur still in the game?

Chill out. I'm talking to a lady.

Blackjack!

Do we win, or what?

Face cards are worth zero.
We need an 8 to win.

An 8?

Perhaps you would care to increase the stakes.

- But, Monsieur, this is highly irregular.
- I make the rules.

Well, I can't see a thing without my glasses.

Monsieur, your bet.

Young man, perhaps you don't fully understand the stakes.

I wouldn't want you to get...

hurt.

It's cool. Hit me.

We won.

We won? We did?

We won.

- You play well, Mister...
- Corben. Michael Corben.

- And... you are?
- Steranko.

Augustus Steranko.

Oh, sorry, sir.

Sir, I didn't mean to kick the sh... um...

I can't believe this. Uh...
better than the lottery.

They should give you a bag for this stuff.

Your room key.

Thank you. Thanks.

There have been too many mistakes.
Bring him to me.

These fools are no match for him.

Areola, my darling.

Hey, wait up!

Monsieur, Monsieur, Monsieur!

Turn around.

What?

Put up your hands.

What was that?

Jesus...

Monsieur!

Monsieur!

What?

What have you done?

I just went like this.

Zigesfeld, take me to Ilsa.

I have the French Teacher and the mercenaries.

I am awaiting further instructions.

Kill them.

With pleasure.

Monsieur!

Ah. Bon.

Bonsoir. I am Pierre, your new driver.

Class... bonsoir, Pierre.

Corben is alive.

There was no way to have known.

The Americans sent two agents to the airport,
both by the name of Michael Corben.

We killed the wrong one.

We're not dealing with a common British agent.

Michael Corben is a new breed...
unorthodox, unpredictable, fascinating.

We can't deal with him in our usual manner.

However disagreeable,
we must sink to his level.

What did you have in mind?

Every man has his weakness.

Where bullets may miss their mark,
the talents of a beautiful woman may strike
with fatal precision.

You sent your slut.

Miss Canasta is a specialist,
much like yourself.

Corben is with Areola at the Palace Hotel.
Kill them both.

Ah, Corben.

I want out, Richardson.

That tux is real cute with the B.O. blasters.

No such luck.
They'll just wake up with a headache.

This isn't my idea of a good time.

What were you expecting, Corben?

To be cramped into a cheap hotel room
holding a farting contest with my roommates.

This mission is more important
than sitting in a hotel room breaking wind.

No. Surviving is more important.

Good news about the French Teacher.

Our sources pegged her as a second-rate
double agent from the cold war days,
who the CIA left for dead.

- Untranslated subtitle -

She's on somebody's payroll
and traveling with a group of mercenaries.

As you suspected, she knows who you are.

Grober and those geeks, mercenaries?

You guys should seriously think
about dropping the word "intelligence."

Not to worry. Our man Kelly will dispose of them all
before they become a nuisance to you.

- Wait a minute. You guys are serious.
- Quite.

Richardson, why don't you hold them there for me?

I'll handle it.

I like a man who clears up his own mess.

Bonsoir, Monsieur Corben.

Uh, boner... I mean, soir.

I bribed the bell boy.
I hope you do not mind.

Mind? Like you think I'd mind?

I neglected to tell you my name in the casino.

I am Areola. Areola Canasta.

I do not give myself to just any man,
but you, Monsieur Corben, you intrigue me.

Yeah? What about that Steranko guy?

Is he, like, your boyfriend?

No. I just met him tonight in the casino.

So, um... what happened?

He lost, and I like... winners.

If you're willing to learn,
I can teach you many things.

Ok.

Close your eyes.

Hey, that tickles.

You see, my sweet,
your night has only begun to get hard.

Interesting phrasing.

Shh! The best part of the lesson
is learning how to accept pleasure.

I'll be right back.

Here, boy!

I'll be right there!

Where are you?

Uh..."combat condoms."

Come here!

Where are you?

Just a minute.

I'll be right there.

Oh! Oh, my god!

That's it. I'm out of here.

Excuse me! Coming through.

Watch it!

Excuse me!

Oh, no. Not you, too.

It's me... Kelly.

Ow! Easy with the slapping!

Tell me everything you know about
Augustus Steranko, or I'll cut out your heart.

I was sent to protect him.

- To protect him?
- Technically, yes.

I could have killed him if it weren't for you.

- I know who you are.
- You do?

You're with Intelligence.

But they're wrong. Steranko is the assassin.

Thank God.

Steranko? What are you talking about?

Look at this.

Blade entrusted this to me before he left.

The scorpion... that's Steranko's personal seal.

It's the proof. Take it!

Oh, Areola must have been working for him.

Areola?

Yeah, the woman who exploded in my hotel room.

Listen to me. Blade was killed because of this.

We've got to get to Orenbourg.

What's this "we" stuff?

You owe me.

You let the man who killed my father get away.

- Blade? The agent?
- Yes.

Steranko's been stockpiling munitions,
preparing for something relating to that coin.

This was supposed to be easy.

They told my father that.

With or without you, I'm going.

Hey. I'll help you.

Corben, we thought you'd quit on us.

I was forced to make that call at gunpoint.

Where are you, Corben?

I'm on my way to Orenbourg.

Steranko is the assassin.

He killed those guys to get control of the gold.

We can't accuse the Chairman
of the European Common Market

of attempting murder and pulling off
the biggest robbery in history.

Augustus Steranko is our friend.

The concept is mind-boggling.

Well, then boggle on.
I'm on your mission, remember?

- The man is mad.
- And if he's not?

This place is a fortress.

The whole chateau is a powder keg.

Christ, what an operation.

I didn't expect this many guards.

Damn!

- Steranko.
- Where?

What the hell are they doing here?

- Who?
- Them. They're my... never mind.

I got to stop them.

I will get to the bottom of this.

Tell Augustus the French Teacher
and the mercenaries have arrived.

This is all very fascinating, I'm sure,
but this is not on the schedule.

We're supposed to be in Dijon.
Do you understand? Mustard Land!

Last night we were supposed to be
in a youth hostel in Strasbourg.

Shut up, you whining bitch!

Mariska, I got a confession to make.

I'm not with British or American Intelligence.

- Who are you with?
- The French Club.

You mean, you're not an agent?

Listen, it seems like my whole life
I'm always coming close,

but I never follow through.

But this time, I'm going to make things right.

I'm going to help you get Steranko,
and you're going to help me get my friends out.

I'll come up with a plan.
Just give me a chance.

Ok.

Here's your chance.

Inside! Keep her here.

Hey!

What's going on here? Leave her alone!

Let me out!

Get in!

You ok?

This can't be happening.

Hey, scorpion boy,
why don't you try that shit with me?

They can't do this.

They can do anything they want.

If we don't have a plan,
we don't stand a chance.

We have Corben.

Good. Don't kill him yet.
I want to talk to him.

Why do you want to talk to him?

I never get to talk to anyone.

Talk, talk, talk.
Talking is your tragic flaw, Augustus.

And you, grunt, are single-handedly
killing the art of conversation.

Excuse me. Um, excuse me.

I hate to interrupt,
but could you help us get out of here?

You. Who are you? Who sent you?

How are you associated with Michael Corben?

I'm Patricia Grober.

I work for the Detroit Municipal School System.

Michael Corben is my student. Are you satisfied?

Don't toy with me, French Teacher!

Who sent you?

I'll come up with a plan, ok?

Put that on.

You're having dinner with Steranko in 10 minutes.

Jerk.

If he thinks I'm wearing this army surplus
reject, he's out of his mind.

Michael, number one,
this is a very nice Armani suit.

Number two, you have no style.
Don't you see?

This is the perfect opportunity.
You have to go to dinner with Steranko.

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.

Augustus and I are very proud
and honored to welcome you.

Here's my plan... I'm going to look him straight in the eye
and tell him we're all walking out of here.

Michael, you have to kill Steranko.

What do you mean, kill him?

When will you realize
the kind of people we're dealing with?

They're going to kill your friends.
They're going to kill us, too.

Jeez, talk about peer pressure.

Michael, this is not a game!
You can't reason with these maniacs!

Mariska!

Very touching.

Ok, Corben, let's go. Dinner time.

Move it!

Schnell!

- Easy on the jacket, man. This is an Abalone suit.
- I know that.

How pleasant to have this opportunity to dine with you.

Careful, Mr. Corben.
That China is priceless.

It once belonged to Catherine the Great.

You've proven such a worthy
and persistent adversary.

Can't you lose like a gentleman?

I want my friends.

You refuse to eat with me, and now you ask me
for favors. Where are your manners?

What could you possibly have
that would be of interest to me?

I don't know. I mean...

how about this?

That belongs to me.

Scorpion on the back. Kind of your trademark, isn't it?

Kind of an insult to scorpions.

Excuse me.
Have you been checked for rabies?

Augustus, this looks like a prototype.

You wouldn't be stealing that gold
and making coins, would you?

With this bug on one side
and your butt-ugly face on the other?

Bravo, Mr. Corben.
You're brighter than you look.

Let me illuminate you further.

A unified Europe... this has been the dream of
great men for over a thousand years.

Now, Europe has unified out of economic necessity,
and history has played into my hands.

Tonight, the key leaders will be here.

They will raise a fatal toast to the new Europe,
to my Europe.

Inevitably, they will need a new leader,
a visionary who can realize a utopia...

a new, united Europe...

a genius who can go beyond the failed dreams
of Alexander the Great, Napoleon, Hitler.

Now, who will they turn to?

They will turn to me!

You can sure run a line of shit.

- You mock me?
- Mock you? You're a lunatic.

Fatal toast... you're going to poison everyone?
You'll never get away with it.

Indeed, I will.

You forced me to deviate from my original plan.

The champagne that they're drinking tonight
is laced with a special poison,

a poison developed by your own CIA.

It lays dormant for several months,
until it attacks unpredictably.

And those who ingest it die at random intervals,
apparently of natural causes.

But now, of course, that plan is useless,
since you and British intelligence know so much.

Now that I no longer have the luxury of time,
they must all die tonight.

You can't kill all those people.

No, of course not.
I can't kill anyone.

It's my fatal weakness.

Violence completely unnerves me.

No, when all is said and done,
I didn't kill anyone.

- It was you.
- Me?

When the authorities arrive,
I will show them the bodies of the terrorists
who infiltrated my chateau...

burned beyond recognition.

Beautiful, isn't it?

I want my friends out of here now.

Kill his friends.
Kill the girl and make him watch.

No, you can't.

Don't blame me for their fate.
You led them here.

Your ineptitude paved the way for their demise.

Your good intentions are not enough.

To succeed, you must...
how can I put it?

You must follow through.

You're history, pal.

I'm going to nail your ass to the wall!

That sounds very painful.

Get in there!

You missed a great dinner, pal.
I dropped some leftovers in your trough.

- Yes?
- No...

but we're getting out of here right now.

We're going to chew our way out?

You know the gum that goes squirt?

This is the gum that goes boom.

All right.

Ok.

Oh, shit.

Corben?

Oh, no!

Where is he?

Step on it. Double your pleasure, double your fun.

Corben, show yourself!

Yes!

Corben!

Hmm. Looks like he stepped out.

It's them!

I knew I should have taken Spanish.

Somebody help us!

Please let us out!

God! They look like an order of fries.

Oh, my God! Michael!

I'll get you down!

Michael, help us!

We're all going to die!

No, Corben's here!

That's what I mean.

Hurry!

Michael, help us!

Michael, hurry! Hurry!

Michael!

Pay attention, Mrs. Grober!
I'm going for extra credit!

What's happening to us?

We're sinking!

I got everything under control...

I think.

The nitrogen... it can freeze the gold.

Don't worry, Mrs. Grober.
The nitrogen... I'll freeze the gold... never mind.

All right, Michael!

Way to go!

Oh, God, it was terrible!

It was awful!

And they killed that man!

Michael, what is going on here?

Mrs. Grober, there's no time to explain,
but now you are "the French Teacher."

Hurry!

I understand.

Get to the reception, and don't let
them drink the champagne!

- Move out!
- Go! Go!

Hey! Your dick's on fire!

Made you look!

I was kidding about the rabies.

Ladies and gentlemen,
raise your glasses with me now,

as we sweep aside centuries of animosity and ignorance

and grasp at the power
which has eluded us for so long.

Alone we are nothing.

To a thousand years of peace...
and prosperity.

The bar's closed!

No! Continue with the toast!

Keep calm.

The champagne's poisoned!

Poisoned? That's preposterous.
We must stand together against this terrorist anarchy.

Who will drink with me to the new Europe?

I'll drink with you.

Here's to a long life.

I'll nail your ass to the wall.

- Mariska, no!
- You killed my father!

No, dear. I killed your father.

I'll kill her. Amazingly enough, I will.

Augustus, hurry!

Michael!

You hurt her, and you're dead!

Corben!

We're sitting on a time bomb.

This place will explode! Everybody out!

All right!

Everybody move out!

Augustus, we've got to get out of here.

No. Just a few more bags. You, more bags! Hurry!

Mariska.

I'm not afraid to die.
I'm not afraid to die.

Who am I kidding?

Damn it! Nothing's happening.

Michael!

There's too much weight, Augustus!

Get rid of the girl.

We're still too heavy!

We've got to get rid of the gold!

- Not the gold!
- No!

Augustus!

Augustus. It's not over.

Who will kill for you?

You taught me well.

No! No!

Time to cash it in, Steranko!

My money! No! My gold!

No!

No, not my gold!

Keep the change.

Oh, no! Come on!

Move it!

Help us!

Help us! I'm the French Teacher!

She's coming right to us.

Contain that woman.

No, you don't understand. I'm a good guy.

- What now?
- Don't ask.

- Hang on to me real tight.
- What are you going to do?

Mariska, these sneakers walk down walls.

Put me down!

I'm used to living on the edge...
just not this close.

Hang on, all right?
Don't worry. It's all downhill from here.

Where's Corben?

Oh, he's on the roof.

What will I tell his mother?

Oh, dear, Michael. I'm so sorry.

You don't understand. That's Michael Corben.

Oh, dear, Michael. Oh, Michael.

- Corben, you're alive! Good job! Well done!
- Congratulations.

- Corben. Michael Corben.
- Kent, man!

Thank you, Michael.

Michael! Michael, do something!

The French Teacher... she's with me.

You've got the credit!

And take my advice. Don't piss her off.

Oh, fine. Uh, let her go!

Thank you. Thank you very much.

- We'd like to get you back into service
as soon as possible.
- Hold on. He's our operative, remember?

We've got plenty of things lined up
for our top man.

Guys, I don't even want to try to explain
who I really am, ok?

The only thing that's going to happen now
is I'm going to take a vacation
and learn a little French.

Au revoir... or something.

# Teach me how to dream #